Love With A Stranger (5 page)

Slowly, yet rapidly, horrible suspicions entered her aching head. It was as if a sadistic puzzle had been tossed into her lap and she was putting it together, and watching it form an ugly picture of betrayal. She did not want to believe what she was thinking. It couldn’t be possible, she told herself. Tom had loved her, only her!

Cass’s darting gaze touched on the two video tapes. Something told her to watch them carefully, for answers. She snatched them up, leapt off the bed, and walked to the entertainment unit in the sitting area of the master suite. She slid the first tape into the narrow slot, and sat down on the edge of the small sofa. She pointed the remote control at the TV and turned it on, then did the same with the VCR before pressing the Play button. As colorful images filled her vision and voices flooded her ears, Cass instantly knew she was not prepared for what she was discovering about the man she had loved and married.

At first, Cass was too shocked and numbed by what she viewed to cry or become furious or to even press Stop. The tape began with her husband and a beautiful blonde she assumed was Gretchen Lowrey having sex in various positions and ways. During one episode, Gretchen held a camera—probably the demolished one lying on her bed nearby—and filmed the steamy action while Tom performed oral sex on her, with the model laughing in amusement, or moaning in ecstasy, or giving instructions as to what felt best or for him to do next. Anguish knifed Cass’s ravaged heart every time Tom lifted his head to smile or speak or to run his tongue over his lips before he returned to feasting on Gretchen’s willing body.

Eventually it was Tom’s turn to film and be pleasured, and the blue-eyed female appeared to do her task with skill and enjoyment. Cass heard him moaning and saw his hips writhing in delight. She heard him saying crude words in a strained voice as he gave his orders or praised her actions. As Gretchen’s mouth and tongue and hand lavished his engorged member with near feverish attention, Tom cautioned her to slow down
and then told her to halt before he climaxed too soon. “You can finish later, you little witch, he chuckled. “Right now, I want to fuck your brains out; mine, too. Just let me set this thing up over there. Where’s the Off button? I found—”

Cass knew there was a time lapse when the camera was turned on again, positioned on a chair at the foot of the bed. She assumed they were in a hotel room because she didn’t recognize the setting. The camera was angled perfectly to capture a close-up view of their ensuing intercourse.

Cass squirmed in rising agitation. Her mouth was dry, and her body was warm and itchy. She needed relief from whatever ailed her, but some dark force was coercing her to discover the extent of Tom’s sins.

Cass pressed the Fast Forward button and discovered other sexual episodes on other dates. It was evident there was nothing Tom wouldn’t do for, to, or with that blond bitch; and Gretchen did the same for him. She cursed and damned the passionate couple who were razoring her very soul.

As Cass was about to halt the tormenting tape, another shocking tryst appeared on the thirty-five-inch screen: Tom having sex with two women, a brunette and a redhead. The television—bought for watching from the bed that was twenty feet away, not this close up—sent out a picture large enough for her to catch every detail.

As Tom directed and filmed, the women cavorted on the bed for a while, stimulating and satisfying each other, either one at a time or simultaneously. After joining them, he continued to record as the brunette and redhead used their hands and mouths to work on his erect penis as a team, sometimes playfully fighting and arguing over not getting a fair share of him.

A change in the action and positions indicated a time lapse during the rendezvous. She saw Tom put on a condom before he took turns driving his rock-hard erection into first one woman and then the other as the females lay side by side. The positioning
of the camera gave Cass an excellent view of Tom’s face as he betrayed her and their marriage vows with vivid enthusiasm.

Cass had been struggling to ignore the jitters she had been enduring since dinner with Peter, but the weird sensations were mounting. Those imaginary bugs were chewing at her mind and body as they had this morning before she took two Valium and crashed in bed. She pressed the Fast Forward button and allowed the remainder of the tape to go by swiftly.

Ugly, accusing thoughts whirled uncontrollably through her mind.
You kept those videos locked in your briefcase so you could watch them over and over during our separations and probably masturbate to them, didn’t you, you sorry sex fiend? You selfish bastard! You filthy traitor!

When the first tape finished, she leapt up and ejected it, then shoved the second one into the VCR so roughly that the unit was moved backward a few inches. It was as if she had to punish herself for trusting him, for loving him, for allowing herself to be so despicably fooled by him. She had to know if there were more sordid accounts on the second tape or if it was blank. She didn’t think she could hear or see anything worse on it, but what she learned was even more devastating.

Cass’s brown gaze enlarged and her mouth went agape as she sucked in a gasp of sheer disbelief. She was too astounded to press the Stop button to halt the shocking images and sounds that invaded her brain and her once-happy home as she saw Tom having sex in various ways with a man, a young and handsome and virile male. She could hardly believe the things her husband was saying—those endearments and vulgar words—and what he was doing with another man; yet, she could not deny what she saw. The fact that Tom used a condom with his handsome lover provided little comfort. He was probably only interested in protecting himself—not in protecting her.

Cass could not watch any more. She couldn’t bear to learn if other men or multiple male partners were on that second tape. As she thought about Tom kissing her with that same
mouth, touching her with those same hands, and entering her with that same penis with which he’d pleasured so many others during their marriage, a wave of nausea wafted over her. She turned off the TV and VCR, then the bedroom lights. She locked her door to make certain Peter didn’t come in to check on her and see the tapes. Stripping off her clothes she jumped into the shower. She scrubbed herself from head to feet and took a douche, feeling dirty inside and out and urgently needing to cleanse herself thoroughly.

As she dried off, Cass recalled seeing the name Zak on Tom’s calendar and in his address book. He’d been one of those few strangers at Tom’s funeral. She also remembered seeing those two women’s names in both places, so Tom, she deduced, had been cavorting with all of them on a regular basis. She had no doubt that his secret life was the reason why he had secluded her on Sea Island! She had been fooled, misused, and betrayed in the worst way possible. Humiliation and rage gnawed at her.

After she yanked on a nightgown she found Tom’s keys and went to his office downstairs. She unlocked his desk drawers and located the item she needed: his calendar for the previous year. She flipped through the pages for last January through December. Her gaze narrowed. She clenched her teeth in fury.

You sorry bastard,
she cursed silently,
if you weren’t already dead, I would be tempted to kill you myself! How dare you do this to me! You’ve been screwing around the whole time! You were even meeting your lovers while I was traveling with you! So these were your “important business” meetings! You bastard, Tom Grantham! You’re worse than Brad was. Haven’t you ever heard of STDs and AIDS? You could have caught something and brought it home to
—

Sheer terror engulfed her as that reality stormed her angry mind and she turned her thoughts to a practical bent.
Oh, my God…I must get myself tested immediately. Whatever will I do if he’s given me some awful or lethal disease? How did I
ever love a treacherous snake like him? How could he fool me so completely and for so long? I never even suspected anything was wrong. I wonder what Peter will think when he learns about—No, no, I can’t tell Peter anything about this; I can’t tell anyone. Think of the horrible scandal! I have to destroy those tapes before anybody finds them and…

The images of Beals and Killian shot into her head like bullets. If the detectives had used Tom’s keys to get inside his briefcase and they saw those tapes…“That would give me a motive for murdering the sorry bastard!” she muttered. “So will that prenuptial agreement if or when they learn about it. Damn you, Tom, damn you!”

She copied the names and phone numbers of Tom’s lovers and listed the dates of the probable assignations and any information she knew. She straightened the papers in his desk, relocked it, and went to her bedroom, where she put the notes, the two tapes, and condoms in the safe Tom had installed in her closet for her jewels.

Afterward and as best as she could, she rewrapped the lingerie she now knew had been purchased for another woman, perhaps the one on the first tape. She tossed those gifts into the grocery sack, then scowled as she dropped in the offensive camera that had filmed those sordid trysts, along with other items taken from it earlier. As she was tossing things back into Tom’s briefcase, the cigar box missed her target and its lid fell open on the bed, revealing a black leather object.

Cass picked up the five-by-seven-inch book, noting its closure strap and lock. She was certain it was a diary, containing private material she couldn’t handle reading tonight. She found the key and removed it from Tom’s ring. She placed the sack and briefcase in her closet to wait until she was ready to give them to Peter. The diary and key she added to the collection in her closet safe.

As she worked, memories of how she had met Tom and his pursuit of her came tumbling through her distressed mind. Tom
had said she was the only woman he had ever met who liked him for himself, not for his wealth and power. He had been amazed when she returned expensive gifts because she insisted she did not know him well enough to accept them. When she refused to have sex with him, he thought it was because of her high moral standards, but her true motive had been to avoid being just another trinket on a rich man’s string of affairs. They had gotten close when he came to Augusta to consider buying the golf cart company where she worked and she had been assigned to show him around town and to take notes at their business meetings. Not once had she imagined she was being stalked like innocent prey.

She had loved him, though not wholeheartedly, so maybe she was partly to blame for what happened to her. His money was an attractive bonus, she confessed, though she had not married him for it. He had given her a generous checking account and several credit cards with high limits, but an accountant/manager handled finances, including all household bills, so she didn’t know how wealthy he was.

She now realized that Tom cunningly had slowly gained control over every facet of her life, down to selecting her clothes and friends and planning her schedule. He had insisted on no children and no career for her. She had been unaccustomed to a life of enormous wealth and constant travel, yet she had tried to please Tom and fit into his unfamiliar world. Knowing now what that world included, she grimaced and chastised herself for being so blind and foolish, so trusting, so stupid!

Cass noticed the box of sympathy notes nearby and her tormented mind shouted,
Let Peter’s secretary do them! You’ll pay for this evil, Tom, somehow, you’ll pay for what you’ve done to me!

She cursed him again, then took a Valium. She didn’t want to think anymore tonight; she didn’t want to hurt anymore tonight; she only wanted sleep to give her relief from her mental agony.

* * *

As Inez swept the front porch early the next morning, an Orient Blue BMW pulled into the driveway and a casually dressed man joined her.

“My name is Doctor Jason Burkman,” he announced. “I’m an acquaintance of Mrs. Grantham and I wanted to stop by to extend my condolences and to see if she’s all right and if there’s anything she needs.”

“She’s doing as good as can be expected. I’m taking care of her and seeing to all of her needs. So is the young Mr. Grantham and Doctor Hines.”

Jason had met both men and didn’t like or respect either one. He hated to think of the lovely and gentle woman who, he had played tennis with twice and treated as a physician three times, being in the care of either man. He had been drawn to Cassandra immediately, but had held his feelings in check for months since she was a married woman. It had been quite a while since he’d seen her last, but she’d often been on his mind. “I’ve phoned several times to inquire about her, but she hasn’t returned any of my calls. If she’s home, I’d like to see her.”

The housekeeper knew the handsome doctor hadn’t gotten through to the house because; Peter had changed the telephone number to an unlisted one while they were in Los Angeles and had the old number assigned to his residence out back where either he or his answering machine took the calls. Peter had told her it was to spare his stepmother from receiving unwanted or business calls, but she wasn’t sure if that was his sole motive. “I’m sorry, Doctor Burkman, but Mrs. Grantham isn’t feeling well and she isn’t seeing visitors yet.”

“Perhaps I should examine her and see if she needs any medication; I have treated her several times in the past.”

Inez recalled Peter’s orders about not letting anybody in to see his stepmother. “As I told you, she’s under the care of
Doctor Hines. Maybe you should phone Mr. Grantham at work to check on her.”

Peter Grantham is the last man on earth I would call for any reason after what he did to me!
There was something about the woman’s tone that intrigued Jason. “Would you mind asking her if I can speak with her for a few minutes?” He saw the housekeeper look at him oddly and hesitate before she nodded and told him to wait on the porch.

She went inside and checked to make certain her employer was still asleep. So, as Peter had ordered yesterday morning, she told the blond physician, “As I tried to tell you, sir, Mrs. Grantham isn’t seeing visitors at this time. When she’s ready to have company, she’ll phone you. Until she does, it’s best if you don’t trouble her again. She’s grief-stricken over her husband’s death.”

That wasn’t the response Jason had hoped for, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it came from Cassandra herself. “Would you tell her I came by?”

“Yes, sir,” Inez said, knowing she would not. She watched the man drive away and reminded herself to report the visit to Peter.

Jason glanced at the front of the sprawling Mediterranean house as he turned onto Sea Island Drive. Something wasn’t right here. He had the impression the housekeeper hadn’t even spoken to Cassandra about him. Strange, he mused, very strange.

At eleven o’clock, Cass sat at a glass-topped verdigris table on the downstairs patio while she had a late breakfast of black coffee with sweetner, mixed fruit juice, and a toasted bagel with no-fat cream cheese. She hadn’t risen until thirty minutes ago, but still felt tired and depressed; her brown eyes, dry and scratchy, her body as limp as a wet dishcloth. Her life was a wreck, her marriage had been a sham, and she didn’t know
what her future held, or even her present. She couldn’t get those sordid images and sounds out of her head and wished she hadn’t found the tapes or viewed them. She recalled her mother saying, “Never let your mind become a trash heap by allowing people to dump garbage there.”